


let the sun shine

by shepherd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Hair Washing, Light Angst, M/M, Married Life, Morning Cuddles, Mutual Masturbation, Post World Of Ruin, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 00:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12353655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: “This makes the fifth apartment today,” Cor pointed out. “Four whole apartments in the centre high rises of Insomnia ain’t good enough? Used to be only Citadel staff could afford those places. And barely.”(you have to pull your life together eventually; or the one where gladio and ignis go apartment hunting and live their lives again.)





	1. then

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ginia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginia/gifts).



In the quiet and empty hallway Gladio’s many apartment keys rattled almost pointedly against one another, and with a wry smile Ignis reached out for his arm. When his fingertips met the ridges of Gladio’s prominent knuckles he ventured along his wrist to caress the skin of his forearm. “The first apartment seemed nice enough.”

Gladio grunted, and from behind them Cor huffed. Ignis could hear his impatient shifting weight on the old floorboards. He could imagine Cor’s terse expression, how he rubbed at his wrist and grimaced at all those phantom pains. “Wasn’t good enough,” Gladio rumbled.

“This makes the fifth apartment today,” Cor pointed out. “Four whole apartments in the centre high rises of Insomnia ain’t good enough? Used to be only Citadel staff could afford those places. And barely.”

“And the years have been kind to all,” Dry wit no doubt only soured Cor’s expression, but the lock freed with a heavy clunk but did not budge. A pause, and Gladio gave a grunt of exertion as he forced the door. It took two attempts. Ignis wondered just how many years ago it had last been opened. “A promising start.”

Cor’s laugh was patronizing - haha, hilarious, when did you become Insomnia’s best comedian? - and a calloused hand rest upon Ignis’. “C’mon,” Gladio said, drumming his fingers along the back. “You first.”

They could fit through no doorway together. Ignis brushed past and breathed in a little too deeply. While the chilly air had movement, someone having ventured into the unknown beforehand to crack a window, the world was heavy with dust. It smelt like a long forgotten library, musky and thick. Thankfully unlike the others it did not reek of the damp. Ignis turned his head out of instinct, the hardest of all habits to break. Underneath his feet the planks had a familiar give. Under the strain of his companions heavy boots they groaned. 

They said nothing for a moment. Ignis listened intently for their slight breathing, the clack of what might have been blinds against the window sill in the last of the last evening breeze. 

Then Gladio hummed and Cor prompted, “So?”

“Hold up,” Gladio replied, and there came the flick of a light switch. There came no responding thrum of electricity.

“Sorry,” The marshal didn’t sound sorry in the slightest. ”Working on it. No water either. Got some candles in the truck if you want ‘em.”

It’s perfect, Ignis almost teased, we’ll take it, but Gladio for there first. “Nah.” Ignis could hear even the modest stretch of Gladio’s smile. “Guess it’s my fault for looking at so many apartments, right?”

Cor muttered something as rude as it was accurate. Ignis’ barked laughter echoed in the room, proving it generously wide and near enough completely void of furniture or debris. It didn’t matter, he knew. Perhaps the home would be theirs and it would be a place to fill with their belongings. Their dreams, their love. Their hope. The thought of something that existed as theirs alone filled Ignis with an alien feeling. It was pleasant even as it stirred up faint nausea. 

Gladio stepped forward. Ignis released his arm, already missing his heat. They waited as the floor protested and Gladio breathed.

“It’s open plan,” He announced, voice ringing clearly. “Wide. Kind of short but there’s a door just opposite you. A bathroom.” His footsteps wandered away and when he next spoke his voice bounced from tile to tile. “Surprisingly roomy. Even enough space for me.”

Impressed, Ignis followed his voice to join him. Touching the doorway, he leant inside. Even the considerable bathrooms at Galdin Quay had been constructive and one of Ignis’ fondest memories was the expression on Gladio’s face when they had attempted to share a bath. Every breath he took spilled water onto the tiles. They had been charged extra, but Ignis didn’t mind the payout as long as he could kiss the grumpiness from his lover. “Shower or bath?”

“Shower.” Gladio’s fingers graced Ignis’ shoulder, indicating which side it was built into the wall. “Just two dials. Pressure and heat. Tiles are grimy but nothing a deep clean won’t fix.” His voice lowered and hot breath warmed Ignis’ cheek when Gladio continued, “And plenty of space for you and me.”

Ignis batted at his chest, lightly pushing him aside with no words but a sly smile. It would be no worse than their first apartment together shared outside of the Crown City - drafty, infested with rats. Ignis hummed with approval and stepped back to let his lover pass by. “The walls?”

“Good condition. No chunks missing. Grey, with the kitchen side painted an off colour white.”

Ignis’ lip curled, and Gladio clicked his tongue - his verbal indication of shrugging his heavy shoulders when Ignis was not close enough to touch. “I can live with it.”

Contempt came in waves from Cor’s position. Ignis knew full well if they declined another apartment on account of the walls, an act so petty Ignis was tempted to take it, even if they would likely not live to see the next. 

“Kitchen island here,” Gladio continued, ignorant to Cor’s exasperation and drumming his thick fingers against the solid surface before making an overexaggerated disgusting noise. “Dusty as hell. Black and gold marble, though. Very Lucian. Oven, washing machine, big freezer. Small fridge though -”

“We’ll be replacing all electrical for the sake of safety,” Cor interrupted with his famed smoothness much less even.

Gladio continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Good amount of light, not that you care. Plenty of space for your genius. It’s nice.”

Ignis took slow steps, reaching out for the counter. His fingertips met layers and layers of cloying dust, sticking to their skin. He cut his nails through the mess. Toeing at the ground he wondered the state of the flooring - no double just like half of the city it would need ripping up and replacing in its entirety. Little of good quality had remained. But perhaps that change was what they needed.

It would take time. But they weren’t running anymore. The world was theirs again, and time alongside it.

Their hands met across the counter, warm and worn. Ignis couldn’t help his smile. He knew Gladio was the same. 

“Happy enough with this one yet?”

“Haven’t seen the bedroom yet,” Gladio replied in a sultry voice, and air hissing from Cor’s nostrils meant he had likely winked. Laughter came from Ignis freely as Gladio’s thumbs teased Ignis’ palm and pulled him carefully out of the kitchen. Gladio guided them and they passed the open window. The sour scent of fresh rainfall had Ignis’ satisfied. He had missed the scent of rainfall almost as badly as the touch of the sun. He couldn’t wait for the day their home would be full of the scent of frying onions and meat, the sound of friend’s laughter. Around a camp it could be awkward, too complex. In their home the lack of familiarity would make it difficult. But it held intimacy; hope. Ignis dreamed of both.

“Here,” Gladio said as Ignis thought they crossed the threshold. “It’s big. Got an ensuite, like all the rest of those fancy high rises this close to the Citadel. Even a walk in wardrobe for all those fancy suits you like so much. Got a couple dressers. A bed - no mattress, though. Would be rotten through anyway.”

“We can have one delivered,” Ignis said thoughtfully. “Walk me around?”

Gladio was careful. He took him first to the walk in wardrobe, the doors creaking and groaning. It took them ten brief strides until Gladio hesitated, slowing as they reached the end. “A few drawers for ties. Couple of shelves. It’s good.”

“Thank you.” Gladio walked him back, linking their arms together as if they walked down the aisle. Ignis felt his face glow pink, and hoped Gladio wouldn’t notice. They stepped around the bedroom, through the modest ensuite with a proper though tiny bath, barely big enough to fit Ignis alone. Gladio walked much less sure of himself, gently tugging on Ignis’ fingers to indicate when to sidestep and where. A close encounter of Ignis’ knee against against wood had him hissing, Gladio apologising with a wince. Steadying himself against the counter, hand splayed against the wood, Ignis appeared thoughtful. “This is a good place. I like it.”

Ignis wished he could see how Gladio’s face lit up. He would settle for hearing it. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” He turned his head, tilted it. “But don’t tell the Marshal that.”

Gladio snickered, resting his hand over Ignis’. “You sure you want this place, then?”

“Can’t be any worse than the other four, if you’re not listing off every fault.”

“That’s fair.”

They emerged, still hand in hand. Cor no doubt still waited at the door, not one to follow where he felt he wasn’t wanted. Likely even in the same stand, fingers at his temple and arm crossed tight against his broad chest.

"So?" He prompted with vaguely hidden hopeful expectation and Ignis almost laughed. He locked his fingers in with Gladio's and pulled their hands close to his chest. His heart beat slow, sure. This could be theirs, he thought. After all this time they would have a home close to where Gladio were born, where they both played as boys and worked as men, where they fell in love. Where their story began and where it would end when their time came.

Ignis squeezed his hand in encouragement. Ignis knew where his heart would lie, and it was anywhere that made Gladio happy.

Motion meant Gladio had shrugged. He constricted Ignis' hand in reply. "Maybe," He said, and Ignis wished he could see Cor's expression.

The marshal let out a low breath. From across the room it could barely be heard over the heavy sound of outside rainfall. It sounded like it might never stop. "Alright," He said and his voice emerged carefully steady. "At least it wasn't a straight up refusal. What's wrong with it this time?"

"Just wanna see if it's right for us." Warmth bloomed against Ignis' side as Gladio stepped closer and put an arm around his shoulder. Lips appeared briefly against his hairline. Against his own will his eyes fluttered closed. "Wanna spend the night."

"Fair," A few modest pops - Cor rolling his shoulders hard. "Like I said we got candles downstairs. Blankets. No mattresses yet, I'm afraid."

"That's all we need," Ignis told him. "Thank you, marshal."

"Cor," He corrected as he always would.

"Yes, marshal," Ignis replied as he always would, and Gladio's shoulders shook with his laughter. Outside the rain continued to pick up. Cor's old truck borrowed from Hammerhead years ago had never dealt well in the rain. "If we could get a hand bringing our things up, we would be greatly appreciative. Get that unreliable truck of yours out of the rain."

“Don’t remind me,” Cor grumbled with his trademark bitterness, but followed them out of the apartment and down the stairs with only a handful of complaints.

 

x

 

"Let's sleep in the living room," Gladio offered only minutes after Cor had taken their keys and left them to their temporary home, all their things still in their bags and waiting, and Ignis' brows shot up.

Halfway through mussing the strands of hair that fell down into his eyes he turned to the sound of Gladio's voice. In the living room it was chilly and they had yet to begin stripping off for bed. Ignis had fumbled while closing the window, finding it built long and wide into the eastern wall, and the blinds no longer struck the plaster. Come morning the stench of stale dust would be unbearable. Until then they would fend away the cold with each other, distract with their own scents of fruity shower gel and cheap conditioner.

"There's a perfectly good bedroom," Ignis reminded him with a drawl. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms, fighting to relieve the goosebumps that stood stark. "In fact, I think I might enjoy getting full use of it. Now and in the future."

Gladio threw out one of the blankets, settling it down onto the floor. It might have been the thinnest, he had said, but it was the only one not worn through in places. Cor had apologized for their poor state, but they were no longer ones to turn away what was offered. At least, Ignis thought, the pillows were soft. "One can only hope," Gladio purred. "But the living room has something special, I think."

"What's that?"

"You'll find out," Gladio said cryptically, and threw the pillows down on the floor with twin thuds. Ignis let him linger in mystery. Between the two of them it was not often that Gladio had the upper hand. "You gonna undress?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you."

"Hell yeah." There was a pause, and then the sound of fabric hitting the floor. Gladio grunted, and his belt clicked. "Might be cold but I can warm you up, baby."

Ignis smiled. He had long toed off his shoes but kept his socks on with Gladio's encouragement - Astrals only knew how filthy the floor was and his feet were the coldest thing about him. For years Gladio had complained of them freezing even after he gave his best massages, and Ignis' favourite revenge was placing his feet against Gladio's hot thighs. It was a pleasure to hear Gladio yelp. He stepped forward, feeling the bump of the blanket against his feet. "I'll keep my clothes on, but I'll trust you'll help me out of them if the time comes."

Gladio hummed. Soon after Gladio was bare hands met his waist to pull him down and Ignis sunk to his knees in a careful motion, leaning against his lover. His thick form chased away the chill, hotter than anything Ignis had ever known. Hotter than Lestallum, hotter somehow than Ifrit's flames. It warmed him deeper. "Sure." Those fingers rubbed against his hipbones. When Gladio sank down he took Ignis with him.

The floor hurt his knees, hurt his hip as he settled onto his side. It could have been worse. Ignis could have been alone. Patting carefully for the other mess of blankets he pulled one over him, another over Gladio, tucking it around his chest. The last was long enough for the both of them, until only their upper halves and points of their toes were exposed. It was never quite comfortable but neither voiced their complaints.

Gladio settled his head back on one of the pillows and groaned softly. Ignis instead pillowed his head on Gladio's bicep. Finding his shoulder with a free hand Ignis moaned just as low, nails scratching at the hot skin. Gladio had quickly become his human heater, his one weakness.

"I'm exhausted," Gladio told the ceiling.

Ignis nuzzled closer. Gladio's arm around him curled tighter. "Perhaps if you hadn't of dallied around all the evening looking for our apartment you might not be so tired."

A slightly too long fingernail scratched warningly at Ignis' flesh, leaving a mark that faded in heartbeats. It meant nothing - Gladio's anger was either the fire that raged hottest or simply the dust it left behind. All, or nothing. "Maybe I wanted the perfect home for us."

"It's not like I'm going to see it, Gladio."

"Not the point," He shot back, with no force. That hand smoothed along him, patient and sure. "It's the feeling you get, not just what it looks like. It'll look great with work, sure, but I'd rather we feel at home. Like we belong."

It was a nice speech, as much as it cloyed. Ignis supposed men like them deserved a little sickly sweet. Murmuring nonsense at the touch of Gladio's hands, like a kitten soothed in passivity, he flattened a hand against Gladio's bare chest. Underneath, the strong heart battled on. "All I feel now is cold," Ignis told him, matter of factly. "Are you going to warm me up?"

Gladio sighed, and Ignis knew it well. It was the pretense, the heavy sigh Gladio gave when he wanted to pretend there wasn't anything he would rather do more. "If it quits your complaining, sure," He droned, and Ignis took his chance.

Ignis grinned and squirmed, slipping free from Gladio's hold. Before either of them could go too disappointed he straddled Gladio's hips and leant over him, taking ahold of his wrists and stealing his mouth for his own. Gladio's lips were sweet although dry, and Ignis licked into his mouth playfully. "Shut me up, then," He said, and beneath him Gladio rumbled. The wrists flexed hard with the urge to move and touch and Ignis kept them there a moment longer. Ignis sat heavily on Gladio's lap and ground down just enough to be teasing.

Those hands broke free. Gladio's hips twitched up and they grasped his own waist, bring him down hard. Ignis felt his cock between the single thin layer of his shorts, flaccid but beginning to show interest. "You want this?" Gladio purred, as if Ignis' own interest was not obvious. "Hungry for me?"

"Always," Ignis said, and pressed a lazily kiss to his mouth, so sloppy it barely caught the corner. He knew those were Gladio's favourite. They kissed for several long minutes. They had all the time in the world and Ignis intended on taking their love slow. Ignis settled down fully against him, legs together, chests together. When Gladio bent his legs his feet pressed against his knees and Ignis broke away from his kisses, laughing. "You're still wearing your socks?" It made sense, but the imagine of his lover wearing naught but his socks had Ignis rumbling with chuckles born from his chest. The very thought was ridiculous and Ignis could not drum up any sympathy even when Gladio whined like a hound.

"It's cold," He said defensively, and Ignis finally managed a comforting noise.

"Let me warm you up, darling," He promised and leaned back in, kissing along the bridge of Gladio's nose and the length of his brows. Practise had made him perfect, and the feeling of flawed scar tissue told him which line his lips followed. "I have supplies in my bag."

"Where?" Tilting his head, Gladio nudged their noses together. Nipping at Ignis' thick lower lip had him sighing. "Baby, where?"

When Gladio took control and moved south, kissing down his chin and licking a long stripe up his neck, Ignis spoke breathlessly. He gazed sightlessly up at the ceiling. Heat coiled in his stomach and his cock thickened. From beneath him he could feel Gladio's, scalding hot. "The bedroom."

"Fuck that," Gladio growled against him in a way that made the heat spike, and Ignis was grateful. He wanted the warmth to never leave him. "Too fucking far." 

"Then what," Ignis began, and when Gladio bit firmly at the base of his throat he stuttered, jerking his hips freely. Gladio murmured his pleasure against his skin. Even so he held on and Ignis whined in defeat, a sorry mixture of relieved and disappointed when Gladio's locked jaws finally released him. It was going to be one hell of a mark, Ignis knew, and Gladio's determined sucking and licking was only going to make it first. "What are you -"

"Don't worry your pretty little head," Gladio teased, voice thicker. Ignis felt it vibrate through his chest rather than meeting his ears. Those hands drifted all down his body, noncommittal. Ignis wanted them on his chest, teasing his nipples, soothing his tense stomach. He wanted them squeezing his thighs and stroking his desperate cock through his pants, pressing inside him slick with his precome. It wouldn't be enough. Ignis didn't care. "I'll give you what you want. I'll make you come."

Gladio got to work. Their history made it clear that they loved to make each other beg but there was something between them that told them it was not the time. When Gladio patted his thighs Ignis got the message, lifting up on his sore knees against the wood. Perhaps he ought to be grateful - sex on this floor would not be comfortable. Their would be an ache in their backs come the morning. They were not young men anymore. But the soft touch of disappointment lingered until Gladio pet his belly and tucked Ignis' pants down beneath the heavyweight of his balls. Gladio's warm palm cupped them, constricted until Ignis sighed, and abandoned them to stroke up the exposed length of his thigh up to his hip. His hand left Ignis' cock in the cold night air and he shuddered. It was so close. Just a little to the right and Ignis knew he would be sobbing for it.

But Gladio kept on. Rolling his hips up into Ignis' ass, he pushed him down a little lower to straddle his thighs so he could expose his own arousal, bobbing and wet. Their cocks brushed and Ignis whimpered at the slick feeling, licked at his palm and desperately took them both in hand, only barely curling around the girth of them. If Gladio thought his fingers were cold, he made no complaint. He only joined him, hands larger and darker skinned, thrusting up into their interlocked hands. It made them choke.

"Shit," Ignis breathed into the quiet. The only noise was the soft slick and their heavy breathing, somehow deafening in the silence. Even still the rain drummed against the sill, leaving droplets and squirming rivers of water against the frosted glass. Ignis had forgotten just how cold Insomnia nights could be.

With no warning another hand cupped his flushed cheek. Ignis did not flinch away. He tilted his head into the hand and finally closed his eyes, safe in his trust. Not for the first time he wished he could see Gladio's face, even one last time - romantic eyed and dark browed, plush lips and such a look of adoration. It never changed. "Gladio," He sighed. They remained this way, hips frozen, pressed together so intimately. Ignis knew Gladio would not move until he gave the okay.

A thumb pressed over his lips for the briefest of seconds before it pulled away. Gladio's hands joined the other, warming their hands and matching arousals. "Ignis," He said.

Something tight in his chest ached. "Don't tease me," Ignis half begged, and for once Gladio obeyed. He started fast and firm, fucking up against him. They slipped and slid against each other. Strong muscles in Ignis' thighs clenched hard and contracted as he worked and Gladio's hand moved to lay against them in awe of how his lover could move. Ignis' belly was tense and the concrete that was arousal sitting in his guts grew massive, aching. Gladio suffered much the same, he knew. Wrists flexed against Ignis' muscle with the strain, and his jaw always ground as orgasm began to sneak up the length of his spine, pleasure tingled in every last part of him.

It wasn't much longer. They had been so busy with the clean up, the rebuilding, they hadn't much time together.

"Ignis," Gladio panted low when his teeth finally unclenched. Everything about him was deliciously raw. "Ignis, fuck-"

"Gladio," Ignis managed, no need to be silent, no need to worry about who might overhear, and he was gone. It was just the two of them and Ignis could scream and shout all he liked. They were all that mattered. 

He gave a choked cry, hips working as fast and frantic as they could manage. Pleasure tore him down from the inside. Overwhelming, destructive. No words could come to him. Eagerness had his hold sharply increasing until Gladio grunted in pain and Ignis whimpered an apology as his orgasm slowly calmed, the blood still roaring in his ears and grip loosening to allow Gladio's thrusts. Gladio's cock moved easier with Ignis' heavy come, laughing a little as Ignis' flow ebbed to a finish. The hot mess pulsed over their hands and Gladio's heaving stomach. Slick noises that Ignis once might have been embarrassed by made their movements noisy and the oversensitivity made Ignis' thighs tremble hard. The touch was almost too much. But Gladio was close - Ignis once could see it in the way his eyelids shuddered, in the way his mouth would part and his heavy tongue would wet his pink lips. Now he could feel it in the way his cock twitched hard, the way Ignis adored when it was deep inside him. Ignis could sense Gladio's upcoming orgasm in the way his hips became utterly out of control.

Ignis breathed a prayer in his native tongue, and then Gladio was coming. Gladio made a noise close to a roar, filling the apartment completely, filling Ignis with thanks that he had thought to close the window. Even if the place would reek of sex, it was better than rain and embarrassment. Ignis pushed against the discomfort to keep his hips grinding into Gladio's and the wet spilled against their hands again, escaping their interlocked fingers. Gladio pushed his hips forward and grunted, reaching out to thread his fingers through Ignis' hair and brought him down for a hard kiss, almost punishing. They lost themselves in shared residual pleasure and building kisses that eventually faltered alongside Gladio's pace, slowing until his hips stopped. Their kisses did not; Ignis sighed against his mouth and matched Gladio's smile of sated delight.

Their hands parted eventually. It might have been some minutes later, or some hours. Either way the rain had finally ceased. Come stuck to them both and Ignis huffed out laughter, pulling away from Gladio's mouth and bringing his hand up to suck his own fingers clean. It was thick against his tongue and overwhelmingly salty - Gladio's diet was not what it used to be.

Ignis was not sure what Gladio did. Perhaps he cleaned himself the same, tongue darting between his fingers in a fantasy that made Ignis' soft cock try valiantly for another term. Perhaps he groped for his clothes and used them to wipe his stomach down, clean up his hands as best he could. Either way when he brought Ignis back down to lie with him he was sweaty but clean of come, and when Ignis leant against his chest his heart still raged.

"Love you," Gladio breathed as he smoothed a hand up and down Ignis' pronounced spine. If the gathered sweat was unappealing he didn't say a word.

"I love you," Ignis returned with one last kiss against Gladio's jaw.

As always, Ignis waited - and when Gladio's breath evened out to a slow, gentle snoring Ignis followed him into rest.

 

It barely felt like a handful of seconds before Ignis was waking to utter silence.

It felt very familiar to wake on a floor. More often than not it was where he spent his nights, thin sheets beneath him and a limp pillow if he was lucky. They were the only things that protected him from the frozen tiles of abandoned diners, the hard wood of hotel floors when multiple hunters had pitched in together for something as simple as a roof over their heads. It felt familiar to wake with a vague ache in his thighs, the exertion of the night before still fresh within him, and a well known body curled up and over him. When Ignis blinked awake there was nothing - only darkness, and then seconds later the soft droning snores of his lover. In the night their legs had wound together, sharing their heat, Ignis accidentally drooling a little against Gladio's lengthy scar. It was ingrained inside him. When they were together nothing was wrong.

Before he had the presence of mind to wipe his saliva clear, Ignis realised it was no longer familiar to wake to the sensation of sunlight on his bare skin.

He turned his head. The rain was still absent even while its scent still lingered. The apartment air made his skin prickle. Cold permeated him when he sat up, blankets falling low to pool around his hips, and he didn't care. He gazed towards the window, eyes wide, basking in the sunrise. Gladio kept on snoring with his bare chest exposed.

It was barely warm. The rays were weak. Ignis remembered waking all those years ago at its first touch, the birds singing as the sky turned from pitch black to velvet blue, deep purples shifting in coral pinks. He would never bask, and more fool him. No one had ever dreamed the sun would fall and remain crushed under darkness' foot for ten long years. He simply rose and worked, barely noticing the splendour, and life went on.

Now he wished he could see it's beauty, but feeling it was glorious enough. Even if the birds did not sing, it was enough to hear Gladio's soft breathing by his side.

It was not longer before the man himself stirred. Roused by the creeping cold he groaned, turning into Ignis' body to seek what he had lost. But Gladio struggled to find it and had never been a heavy sleeper - with one last complaint he froze, no doubt blinking awake, and finally sighed, settling his arm around Ignis' bare waist. Ignis wondered if he was confused, or understanding.

His answer came soon enough.

"Feels nice, right?"

Ignis did not reply. Oddly, all he could feel was faint nausea. It was not supposed to make him feel sick. It should have made him smile, laugh, turn and kiss Gladio and grow warm together. Existence was a blessing. So many nights he had feared the thought of never knowing warmth again. But even Gladio's simple arm around him felt too much. All he could do was reach for his hand and toy with his fingers, scratch his nails around the wedding ring he always wore. All he could do was breathe and feel the sun.

They lay for a moment. Finally, Gladio stirred. "I'll open the window," He offered, and shoved the blankets away and moved to rise - but Ignis' hands held him too tight.

"Don't go," He asked, and Gladio said nothing. He remained on his side. Ignis thumb toyed with his own ring, a thick band with no stones - nothing fancy. Neither of them were the gaudy type. Even the ring was not necessary, nor the ceremony that Prompto had eventually made them have; he refused to speak with them until they agreed. All they wanted were simple vows sealed with a kiss, and Ignis turned to seal them again with another.

Gladio smiled against him. Touching Ignis' waist he guided him back down onto the floor, pulling him closer as he moved to kiss Ignis' ear, murmur against him. "It's a wide, bay style window. It's not that exactly, but the sunlight spreads far across the room." Gladio's explanation was thick and slurred with sleep and Ignis could only smile weakly, reaching out to embrace his husband. "That's why I wanted to stay. I wanted to see if - I just..." He breathed, exhaling heavily through his nose. Ignis was patient. He would wait. "I just thought it might be nice if we slept here. See how the sun came through in the morning."

In the midst of every emotion, all the joy that slowly overtook him and the adoration for this great poetic lump of a man, there was regret. Regret he hadn't snapped up this Astral sent angel first, that he had wasted so much time in his youth with maybe he won't, maybe I won't, maybe the king, maybe the world. Too many maybe's that took love and contentment away from him - but they were here, they were together in this moment, and that could be enough if Ignis let it.

Gladio still spoke. "We should put a couch, right here," Gladio traced the bones of his lover's stark hips while he spoke. "Big one. Huge cushions. Don't care if it's secondhand, it's just gotta be comfy." When Ignis reached to touch his mouth Gladio's hand followed. He found Gladio's blissful smile, and his gentle fingers traced the deep lines of his palms, the scarring and callouses. "We can fall asleep on it. Read on it together. It'll be nice."

It did. It sounded perfect. "I love you," Ignis told him plainly but honestly, and the smile only stretched further. There were so many soft things, his smile, his hair, his skin, and Ignis wanted to kiss every single part of him. Ignis leant for him, letting his hand drop and brushing their lips tentatively together. Gladio met him, and the sun was ice compared to his touch. 

"I think we should ask Cor for the keys," Ignis said when they pulled away, and Gladio turned his head, pulling his hand away to kiss his palm sweetly. It took only a moment for Ignis to stretch up and kiss his mouth again, lost inside him.

"Me too," Gladio said against his lips, and even with a world of responsibility and duties beyond their home, Ignis had no intention to move even an inch.


	2. now

Only days later their broke in their new mattress in three ways. Each were markedly different, but together they shared a clear favourite.

 

“Gladio,” Ignis said with all the world weariness of a parent who had been driven to the edge of despair by their child as he heard quick footsteps come closer and closer, and he sighed just before Gladio hit the mattress hard. The first way was child’s play - a run, a jump, a heavy flop. Even in his exhaustion Ignis could not resist his smile, even if he declined Gladio’s invitation to join him. Instead he shoved him off, scolded him, and then kissed his head.

The second was not their favourite, even as it rest close. Gladio lay underneath Ignis’ arm, halfway between reality and dreams. He stroked patterns into his flat belly and murmured sweet words - _ I love you, you’re everything to me, gods, I love you. _ He didn’t think Ignis heard with his eyes closed and his breathing even - but Ignis was always good at playing along, and he smiled only when Gladio was long asleep.

The third and favourite the very next morning was Ignis’ hard swallow, breathing  _ yes _ as his eyes stared dazed up to the ceiling, licking his kiss swollen lips. They shone and Gladio could not longer resist the urge to kiss them.  _ Yes _ **_._ **

 

Gladio worked Ignis hard. His fingers curled inside him and pressed firmly enough to make Ignis’ thighs quake. They both sweat harder, to an almost embarrassing extent. It had been too long. Gladio’s boxers sat like a second skin. But going by the way Ignis stroked up and down the heavy muscle of his bare back, he didn’t care. Beneath them their mattress groaned and the sheet between stuck and soaked. Another frozen late autumn morning, and they made their bedroom warm and sticky in defiance of it all.

Ignis murmured his name and a prayer, but perhaps they were the same thing.  _ Gladio, please,  _ and for a terrifying moment Gladio thought his heart might burst free from his chest. Who cared if it did? It was Ignis’ now, anyway. It had been for decades.

Gladio distracted himself with Ignis’ skin. It kept him grounded and filled his mouth with sweat and salt and longing. His lips taste like the cranberries that wouldn’t last much longer in their season and it was one of Gladio’s favourite privileges beside Ignis’ soft skin and wandering hands.

But Ignis loved Gladio’s fingers, and he told him in so many ways. Through words - gasping and pleading he told him  _ fuck me, fuck me. More.  _ Through his squirming and bucking, the precome leaking down his straining cock. Gladio had been torturing him for too long. His fingers were long and thick and stretched him out carefully. Ignis held no patience. It had been too long since they had privacy with their own bed, supplied at hand. Ignis squeezed his own chest, tugged at his own nipples, cried for more or for mercy. Gladio couldn’t tell.

It could have been hours later when Gladio slid home and Ignis cried. Their hips moved together hard. Gladio swirled and ground while Ignis choked and pressed back, clawed down the thick muscle. The fire rose between them. It melted away the ice that had built up steady and immobilizing. Try as they might they could not chip it down alone. It took the two of them, together.

 

_ Ignis almost giggled when he came fucking giggled, Astrals,  _ and Gladio could only match his laugh and kiss him hard.

 

X

 

Insomnian dawns had always been slow and modest, and now they were breathless.

They were by all rights a privilege but Gladio knew they deserved every last second of that melting cold, the delightful warmth that replaced it. The sun rose perfectly on time every morning and even almost a year later people held their breath. Almost as if those months had been some dream, ready to be snatched away at a moment’s rude awakening. The moment the light seeped over the city people were up and about, modest markets setting up and the roads teeming with people. So much to do, and no guarantee there will be another day like it.

For Gladio, however, the sun was a different reminder. It was a reminder of his duty to keep his lover in bed for as long as possible. In all respect to his important work, he woke Ignis the same way he always did; slowly and with gentle touch.

Teeming schedules filled with sulky surviving nobles and directors of the new government didn’t matter. Gladio’s responsibility to apparently every single tiny damn decision his own branch made about which soup would be served in the communal kitchens today to those in need didn’t matter. They fact that nowadays they had little time to spend fawning over each other didn’t matter - what did was how Ignis moaned as he came too, about how Gladio stroked over his growing smile with his fingertips.

“Good morning, handsome.” He greeted, and leant in for a gentle kiss. Ignis had some hellish morning breath with all that coffee he had drunk over the years but the affection Gladio carried in his heart easily outweighed the seconds of Gladio’s misery. Ignis smelt like mint and sweat and he pursed his lips against Gladio’s as he came aware, blinked blearily and groaned with disappointment as Gladio broke away. His thumb smoothed over those dark brows.

“Good morning,” He repeated, and Ignis beamed.

 

“Your hair,” Ignis spoke up quite suddenly, and halfway through falling straight back asleep on him the the confines of their shower, Gladio rumbled and opened his still bleary eyes.

There was a deep frown on Ignis’ face. It didn’t belong there, Gladio thought. Still warm water from the shower head cascaded down his knit brows and it had turned his hair from soft honey to the darkest brown. It trickled down the length of his nose. His hands lathered in shampoo and tugging lightly at the ends of Gladio’s thick hair, he assessed his husband carefully. In turn Gladio’s own hands had been rubbing firmly at Ignis’ back, sliding over the subtle bumps of his spine and his built muscle. It was pleasant to feel him. Even better to delight in his soft sounds of pleasure. Soap suds and the gleam of water made him even more beautiful, but Gladio knew better than to distract Ignis in the midst of his routine.

The man had filled out a lot more. Since. It was good to feel, even greater to have permission as Ignis’ husband to be the one to touch him. Constant stresses had worn Ignis down to his barest minimum. Now he carried extra weight, his hips less pronounced and his spines definition only subtle. It was amazing to see the changes that had taken place over a few months.

But Gladio blinked, blinking away his daze. “What?”

“It’s longer,” Ignis said thoughtfully, and rain his hands through the black ink of Gladio’s hair once more. Roots to ends, considering all, and Gladio couldn’t restrain his purr of satisfaction. Eyes half lidded, he watched Ignis’ rapt expression. “It’s even longer than I once recalled. When was the last time you cut your hair?”

“Mmm,” Gladio’s noncommittal murmur was barely audible over the gentle stream of water. How it hadn’t turned cold already was beyond him. His eyelashes clumped together, heavy with the beads, and their hair was plastered onto their foreheads. No matter how ridiculous Ignis looked with his hair flat against his skull Gladio still found him heart stoppingly handsome. The shower wall they had installed a few months back had fogged up something awful from the heat - just enough to cast Gladio’s mind back to the interesting smears that had been left there when they had enough time to play in the mornings, before Cor had recruited them both to clean up the shattered remains of Insomnia - and the rail Gladio had set into the tiles was slick with water. The tiles had cleaned up nice with a little hard work, but Gladio had always taken pride in a job well done. Perhaps he had been so busy he hadn’t noticed the length of his hair. Most mornings he tied it up into a bun and forgot about the mess. “Guess I haven’t had it cut in a while. Keeps slipping my mind.”

Gladio expected him to tut, to roll his eyes. When they were younger men Ignis would have pushed him out of the shower to call for an appointment, or simply cut it himself.  _ You have to treat your hair with better care, _ he would have scolded.  _ You have to keep on top of it - you’re the king's shield, and must look the part.  _ Gladio had heard enough of the same directed to Noctis he knew how it would have gone by heart.

The words never came. Visibly deep in thought, Ignis gave no immediate response. He tugged a little harder, hard enough for Gladio to feel a spark of faint arousal and considered slipping his hands down a little lower, but Ignis shook his head as if to chase such thoughts away. “No matter,” He said, and continued his good work with Gladio’s hair. His hands were godly. “I was simply...surprised, is all.”

“Guess neither of us have a lot of time for shit like that.” Gladio closed his eyes again. He settled back happily against Ignis’ slim shoulder. The practised hands against his scalp felt incredible. Tension headaches had always been Ignis’ cursed, but Gladio would have killed to have those fingers knotted in his hair forever, scratching just to make Gladio moan. In return Gladio lowered his hands, pressing firmly against Ignis’ lower back, Stress and tension always seemed to gather there. The longing to go further only grew stronger. He didn’t dare in fear Ignis would pull away.

Ignis clicked his tongue softly against his teeth. Even so, he melted into Gladio’s touch. “It’s an important part of life, Gladio. Staying on top of things.”

“I’ll get it done soon enough,” Gladio told him.

_ Unlikely _ , Ignis’ expression screamed, but he said nothing. Leaning up for a brief kiss he wet his hands, letting the lather fall and circle around the drain before disappearing for good. Gladio waited somewhat patiently until the hands returned and Ignis cleaned his hair carefully of every sud he could feel. When he was done, he pressed one last kiss to his temple.

Gladio straightened unwillingly. He had already carefully washed Ignis’ hair and had the pleasure of listening to his soft sighs, and so he took Ignis’ hand. “C’mon,” He toyed with Ignis’ fingers, smiling. “We should get out. You’re a little pruney.”

Ignis sighed, long suffering. “You’re pruney,” He shot back in a moment of early morning immaturity but he too smiled, allowed Gladio to shut off the water.

Ignis stepped out first, dripping feet against their soft mat. He took one of the towels that Gladio had left folded on their toilet and mussed his hair first, looking wild and tired, and Gladio reached for his own to pat his lover down. A smile quirked on his lips. Ignis had long since told him it was unnecessary, he could dry himself perfectly fine, but Gladio never refused an excuse to touch his lover. Giving in to laziness Ignis leant against him and let him work. “Be careful. I could get used to this.”

“I’m fine with that,” Gladio replied, and Ignis only shot him a playfully scolding look when he took a handful of Ignis’ ass and squeezed. “Come on. I’ve been so well behaved all morning.”

“You’re terrible,” Ignis informed him, slipping away - but before he left the bathroom he grabbed his own handful, making Gladio almost jump out of his skin in his surprise.

  
  


When Gladio emerged from their bedroom, Ignis was working on his tie. His fingers were slow and focused, tucking and pulling, and the tie emerged perfect as ever. It was impressive to watch. Ignis ran his fingers over the smooth fabric and smiled with satisfaction.

He turned to Gladio, as he always did. “So?”

Perfect, as always. Gladio told him such. Never quite satisfied, Ignis tugged at it some more until it lay flat. It was the navy one Cor’s husband had given him almost a lifetime ago. Surprisingly inoffensive, for his eccentric tastes, and Ignis had been a healthy mixture of relieved and grateful. It fit well with Ignis’ fitted grey waistcoat - a little too well fitted, with Ignis’ subtle regain in bulk, but Gladio only loved it all the more. “Thank you, darling.” He shot a theatrically stern look towards his lover’s voice. “Perhaps you should try to dress the part more.”

Gladio grunted. There was nothing greater than the simplicity of a plain tank and baggy jeans. White and grey, not a single stitch of black on either of them. Even so Ignis’ skull still gleamed. There were some things that would never change. “If I was an office boy, sure. I work for the people, baby.”

“That you do.” Ignis rejoined him. He ran his hands down the firm line of Gladio’s chest - and then he frowned, fingers curling. They scratched lightly at his pec. On his work shirt there was a pocket at his breast, a little further along than his heart. It rest over the eye of the eagle. Today it was all too obviously absent.

Before he could ask, Gladio stepped ahead. “No work today.” He caught Ignis’ hands between his own. The residual warmth from the shower made Ignis almost glow. “Dustin’s in charge Fridays. Told ‘em I’ll only work these days if there’s an emergency - and if there’s anything that urgent I probably would have stayed all night Thursday and given up our weekend.” 

_ Our weekend _ . Ignis’ heart skipped a beat, but his brows arched. “And they let you?”

Incredulous, Gladio snorted. “How they gonna stop me? Love to see them trying to tell the beefiest Amicitia that ever lived that he can’t have a long weekend to spoil his husband silly.”

For the past fourteen years, Friday night had been theirs. Gladio had lovingly dubbed it their date night. It was the one day in the week peace had been assured. Unless the world was at danger of falling apart within the next hour the two of them would leave the Citadel together at five, at the latest, and spend a relaxing night at home. Food, movies, sex. The works. After only a few months and as Ignis’ duties grew and grew with his maturity - not to mention Noctis’ lack thereof - and Insomnia’s suffocation underneath the long shadow of the Empire, it had been one of the few things Ignis had to truly cherish. Ignis caught himself dreaming of their plans together during meetings, pulling together the perfect recipe for their night.

At first he hadn’t respected it. Gladio always took the day for him when possible, scheduling the day and preparing for the sake of Ignis’ cluttered mind. Ignis had not treated him with the equal consideration he deserved. Many dinners had been left to become cold. In retrospect, the grand scheme of things it was difficult to remember why. A few extra hours of completing reports that would be sparring glanced at before being signed off meant nothing when Gladio sat home alone and wounded. The guilt still festered inside Ignis to this day.

Now after everything that time together was vital. They spent their Friday’s past at dinner dates in Insomnia’s glory, flirted and charmed over Ignis’ thrown together meals over the campfire to their fellow’s chagrin. Nowadays their dates were almost exclusively at home but it didn’t mean that they meant any less. They were no less exciting. They had the kind of intimacy that only long years together could achieve. 

Ignis had been lost in his own thoughts for too long. Gladio’s hesitance pulled him from memory. “You...you didn’t forget, did you?”

“No, no,” Ignis was quick to reassure. “I just didn’t think you would take the day off, considering.”

“Got some things to do around the house.” Gladio blew a raspberry against air. “I’m a busy working man now.”

“So you keep saying,” Ignis returned, glib as ever. He squeezed at the line of Gladio’s thick shoulders. “Is Prompto joining you?”

“I’m sure he will. He’s in on the fifth floor now, so there’s no excuse.” Gladio’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not invited to dinner.”

Those hands moved north, stroking along Gladio’s throat. They tapped at Gladio’s nose and delighted in how the skin wrinkled, knowing Gladio was always play at nipping at the skin. Ignis could hear the clack of teeth. “No, but if you make him do any manual labour remember to feed the poor boy. He never lived alone, you know.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll keep him from starving.” He joined his fingers together and cracked his knuckles together. Ignis pulled a revolted expression but Gladio didn’t notice. There was too much to do as he looked around the apartment - tidying the clutter and keeping it neat for when Ignis got home, redoing the laundry that had quickly built up. Fixing the wobbly step up into the walk in wardrobe and finishing the tiny little wooden animals that Gladio had been carving for the neighbour’s children who had few toys. They were his fourth attempt. They were nothing close to perfection but they were something. Gladio supposed it was the thought that counted. All he needed was to finish and pluck up the courage to pass them over.

So much to do, and all the time in the world to do it in.

“I’m likely late,” Ignis said. Somehow his body clock was still in tune. Gladio’s attempts to sabotage it with busy and late nights and slow and sensual mornings had not yet bore fruit. After a decade he was beginning to think it wasn’t possible. “I’ll see you tonight, my love.”

He turned away, but paused when Gladio said, “Wait.”

One last kiss, and when Gladio pulled away Ignis was smiling softly. Their bodies slipped out of each other’s reach all too soon. “Have a good day, Iggy. I love you.”

“And I love you,” Ignis said, and made his way out - only to pause, about to close the door behind him and step out into their not quite brave, not quite beautiful new world, but something that would always be theirs. “Darling?” He called, and when Gladio looked up, grinned. “Don’t forget to make an appointment for your hair.”

He shut the door with one satisfied bark of laughter at the sound of Gladio’s agonized groan.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr, but this is anonymous so I'll add it later lmao
> 
> (sorry this isn't as good as it could have been i went through a lot of stuff recently and this had a deadline rip sorry ginia :c)


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